Jealousy
by Stephane Richer
Summary: This can only mean that Makoto's mad at Takao for one of his usual irrational reasons.


Jealousy

Disclaimer: Don't own.

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They come by in bunches, the girls, from his class and from the other class and from the second-year classes, too, sitting in the bleachers during practice and giggling and cheering. Takao kind of wishes they wouldn't, mostly because they always cheer the loudest for him and Miyaji gets jealous and makes him do extra lap after practice and watches him, chugging cans of pineapple juice and barking at him to go harder and Takao feels like he's going to throw up or pass out or something.

They follow him around from class to class and wait outside the locker room for him to come out after practice and giggle and whisper at his wet hair and every night Takao prays to Oha-Asa that his sister doesn't turn out like this. It gets particularly annoying by the end of one week, when he just happens to get a double-double in the home practice match and they start giving him chocolates and he feels really awkward because he doesn't want to give them the wrong idea and goddamn it being popular was so much easier back in middle school when they actually talked to him and didn't worship him like a fucking idol. Why they don't just choose Midorima or Miyaji (they would actually enjoy it and pretend they didn't and Takao would get a kick out of making fun of them for it) Takao will never know. He probably just has really bad luck.

Makoto's supposed to meet him this Friday, thank god, he needs a refreshing dose of sexy douchebag boyfriend in his life stat, and Makoto's stupid tsundere text message in the middle of math put a grin on his face that he just can't shake off and he passes a note to Midorima that says, "guess you're taking the rickshaw home yourself tonight!" which Midorima pretends to ignore like the model student he is but can't hide the fuming mad frown on his face and Takao is very glad for the hawk's eye right now.

Practice is by far the worst today. Whenever he touches the ball, the girls start to shriek and Kimura wordlessly digs out enough sets of earplugs for the whole team (Miyaji tells him not to give Takao a pair because it's his fault but Kimura ignores him) but it doesn't work completely and they have to use their voices to shout out play directions and drills so they just give up. Miyaji glares at Coach Nakatani when they break for water, and he just shrugs because it's in the student handbook that practices are open to all Shutoku students, and for good reason, too, and at least students from other schools aren't allowed in. Takao grits his teeth and thinks about Makoto's voice—but then he gets distracted and almost drops the ball and Miyaji's yelling at him again.

He doesn't bother with his belt, leaving it in his locker for now, because it'll just come off later anyway and it's not like they actually do anything if you don't wear the uniform correctly (as he pointedly reminds Midorima every so often, which only results in Midorima adjusting his jacket and making sure his buttons are done properly). He dashes out of the locker room and tries to ignore the shrieking girls (shit, he left the earplugs in his locker, too) and makes it out to the school gates unscathed. Makoto's nowhere in sight. There are a hell of a lot of girls, but no Makoto. Takao checks again and again, and he's pretty damn sure the hawk's eye isn't failing him now. Maybe he's a little early today? Coach did seem pretty fed up and willing to just let them go, and he'd taken a quick shower, but no. It's usual time. His heart races; he checks his text message record from this morning.

He didn't read it wrong; well—maybe he read it between the lines wrong and it would be like Makoto to make a fool out of him, but Takao's had so much experience with tsundere guys that he's pretty sure Makoto meant it. If he'd wanted to fool Takao, he would have come right out and said that he was coming by and to wait for him.

"Oh?" Midorima says. All of Takao's friends hate Makoto (Takao will concede that he's a heartless, conniving bastard with weird eyebrows but those are attractive qualities to him. It's not like Makoto likes any of Takao's friends, either, so it's not as if there's any love lost, but still, if they'd only make an effort) but Midorima hates him the most. Still, he looks a bit unsure, and his finger is hovering over Takao's shoulder—shit. Does he look that bad? Sure, this week has been fucking awful and this is kind of the last straw, but to have Midorima trying to console him? He forces a laugh.

"There must have been a misunderstanding. I'll just call Mako-chan right now."

Midorima crosses his arms over his chest as Takao dials and presses the phone to his ear. Three rings and then straight to voice mail. This can only mean that Makoto's mad at Takao for one of his usual irrational reasons. Usually, he's pretty transparent about what's made him mad but Takao has no clue—he sent his usual response to Makoto's text message, and even though Makoto's passive-aggressive as shit he'll usually send an immediate reply because he wants Takao to know he's done something wrong.

"If…you really don't want to, you can…um…I mean, I understand your legs are tired from Miyaji-senpai's extra workouts…" Midorima says.

Either he's still trying to console Takao or he thinks Takao made the whole thing up to get out of biking him home in the rickshaw, and Takao would honestly be quite touched if he wasn't so tired and confused right now. Still, he's got enough energy to muster up a smile. "Thanks, Shin-chan, but Mako-chan is just playing hard to get."

Takao hits redial, and this time Makoto picks up. "Tired of your fanclub yet?" he spits out, venom obvious even through the phone.

Oh. Is this what this is about? Takao rolls his eyes and facepalms. "Mako-chan, you should really take another IQ test. You're so dense."

After several more phone calls in which Makoto hangs up on him repeatedly, Takao has deduced that his boyfriend is in a nearby coffee shop. Honestly, this guy is so difficult sometimes. But he delights in being difficult and making things of no consequences into huge mountains with himself carved into the face.

It's worth it, though, even if he has to pay lip service to him that going down on Makoto and touching every inch of perfect skin is something he's doing to make it up to Makoto when it's really something he's doing for his own selfish desire. It's worth it, to feel Makoto's sharp teeth digging into his neck and chest and those gleaming eyes staring greedily at him and being mutual objects of each other's desire.


End file.
